Steppenwolf *A Poem by C PerilInspired by the novel Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse
I long for the rooms of corrupting opulence, inhabited by the daring creatures of the night.
Renouncing my humanity for just one evening - like a Steppenwolf. How the doves with dancing breasts will beat their wings, wafting away all inhibitions. At the mercy of an angel's caress - oh how they deal in dishing out their worldy pleasures. The seducers of Egypt and Rome, their Nile tongues lapping up the Pyramids. How a part of me couldn't care if their hips are ripe and round, a sun disc falling to the ground. * We are in the dungeon of our dear Hermine. I hear jazz, transient and passing, playing from the horns of Latin men whose feet sit shallow, only dipping in the pool of artistic merit. Greater Gods, Goethe, Mozart, I can still hear them somewhere as I capitulate and dance, dance, dance. There are cocktails that stir the blood and there's the liberating rush of Opium. Ruin every last drop of me. * Right now I have forgotten Church choirs and innocent boys in garments of white... the pursuits of academia and trying to outwit those cultivators of our collective knowledge - which, by the way, doesn't seem to have prevented wars or woe. I will not contribute. I will not partake. Because in this den of sin, they love me for the fur on my back and the fangs in my mouth.
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1 Review Added on November 25, 2019 Last Updated on December 21, 2019 AuthorC PerilGY, Humberside, United KingdomAboutCreeping quietly towards 30 years of age. Based in Nowheresville, England. Writer (if we're being liberal with the term). Reader. Hoper. Believer. Lover of music and LFC. more..Writing
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